


Too Much or Too Little

by asahinayuuta



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Comatose, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asahinayuuta/pseuds/asahinayuuta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is crying even an option anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Too Much

Is crying even an option anymore?

It has become more than just a habit, but a lifestyle and you can’t stop it, you wish you could, but kneeling next to him, while he may be aware, at least the possibility, he can’t do anything. After watching what you have, all the kids comatose, you don’t know what to think anymore, it is such a sad, heartbreaking sight of tears and horror. You can’t take it. 

The beep signaling that a student is waking goes off and you hear it, it is while you and Hinata are eating. Fuyuhiko rarely eats with anyone anymore, he is more often than not at Pekoyama’s side, with her upon all times. That beep, you have only got to hear that beep three times, this being one. 

The first one resulted in absolute horror, the student, still in shock from despair, immediately attacked Fuyuhiko, he was lucky Akane fought back, because you knew he wasn’t going to fight back. It was Hiyoko Saionji. He thought he deserved it. 

Her shock from despair only lasted near a minute before she broke down into tears, real tears. Not her fake ones used to fool people. She was mortified and didn’t expect the feeling, the look, everything all at once was too abrupt. 

The second one was even worse. Everyone was so happy, and thought that the more they woke, the faster that everyone else would, and when Mikan arose, you were thrilled, because, in fact, Mikan deserved to be alive and work through the pain. 

But when she got up, she attacked Hajime, who didn’t look like Hajime, but easily accepted by the others and you, you let the style live on, for in fact, his personality will never shift from Hinata Hajime’s, for he is his own character, and very incredible. 

She went after him. Shouting, screaming, yelling, kicking, hitting, crying, furiously, she raged on and on and on until she had him held against a wall with a near scalpel held to his throat. She mumbled to him, murmuring words that were left to forever haunt him, mentioning her. She never recovered from shock, she claimed that from the minute she was allowed to remember, the minute it was permissible, she fell, hard. And she would never forgive any of us, and she wanted to kill that Hajime, who portrayed Kamukura Izuru, for her sake, for her despair. 

And the beep, the one you hear now, could be him, the beep you’ve waited for. The beep that could save you from more misery, more tears, more horror, more anger, more speaking to those who can only take in what you hear, but never return cleverly thought out and played words, who may never speak in the way you love again. 

The beep comes from near him. Fuyuhiko, although by Pekoyama, notices and yells, “Hinata! Hinata! That’s, i-its...Komaeda’s wakin’!” and you give up. He may attack you, or Hajime, but you are uncertain. 

He simply is helped out and when he is, there are no harsh reactions, just deranged laughter escapes, and erupts into cracked coughs. Hajime had informed you that he had cancer, so now his cracked laughs and coughs mean nothing except his illness to you.   
Although you do wish that you could’ve seen someone else awake, someone of more sense, you are happy to see that he did not die in his slumber, unlike Nidai, who you were later informed his heart was the problematic structure, not the coma or the events of the game, which though, may have caused a great deal of damage to his heart, leading to his death. 

Now, you make your way to Gundam. 

His body lie still in its place, resting, and as you were informed, possibly aware, if he shows any sign of heavier breathing, positively aware. You wish you could here him say something, anything, something of importance, you wish he would wake up. 

You remember him in the game, the simulation, the way we walked, the way he talked, spoke with uncasual and brief language and you don’t know what to think, or how to react. You remember the words he spoke, the incredible power and tongue he presented. 

The talk of sins and hell and death, it all seems like a mixed of blur of who once stood tall, stood proud, someone who you admired, who you cared for, who you loved. 

You wonder if talking to him will make him want to wake. 

You wonder if your words will ever hit him. 

You wonder if they have. 

You wonder if he can think. 

You wonder throughout the day, throughout every day, mortified at the sheer belief some thoughts, some ideas, some guesses, some possibilities could be true. You don’t know how to handle all the pressure, the impact, any of it. You have given so many people prep talks and so much support in your life, but you never realized how hard some things are just to follow. 

“Will you please wake up, it has been quite a while now. You won’t ever get your haircut if you don’t come out of there”, and you choke back sobs. 

. . . . . . . . . . 

“Komaeda-kun, Tsumiki-san, and Saionji-san have awoken, I hope your turn comes soon enough! I can’t wait, honestly! The moment it happens I won’t be able to hold back tears, and please don’t yell for it, I know you wouldn’t want that, but I’ll be so happy!”, you say with every ounce of happy left in you. 

. . . . . . . . . .

“A lot of things are happening, and you are missing it all, I even got a haircut, but I promise when you wake, you’ll be before anyone in line. Your scarf falling apart, I guess after everything it was a great scarf though, but I won’t get rid of it! Not unless you instruct me to do so!”, you prepar the mental screaming, the heart pounding, mind aching process of emotion. You wish to tell her to wear it. Hold it with grace and dignity. Proud to represent everything you did, you do, you might. 

 

. . . . . . .. . . . .

“A lot of things are happening, and you are missing it all, I even got a haircut, but I promise when you wake, you’ll be before anyone in line. Your scarf falling apart, I guess after everything it was a great scarf though, but I won’t get rid of it! Not unless you instruct me to do so!”, you make out in silent sobs, your eyes filling. 

. . . . . . .. . . . .

“A lot of things are happening, and you are missing it all, I even got a haircut, but I promise when you wake, you’ll be before anyone in line. Your scarf falling apart, I guess after everything it was a great scarf though, but I won’t get rid of it! Not unless you instruct me to do so!”, you make out in silent sobs, your eyes filling. 

. . . . . . .. . . . .

You have been paranoid and talking to him for too long, Akane gives you odd looks, but still her sudden urge of respect and misery sinks in, chilling her bones, you can see it. Nekomaru is dead, he had no chance of survival and she has to face that. She occasionally pats your back, and when she does, murmurs, “stay strong, kid, you’ll do good, we all know it”. And you can’t help but smile as she does it today. 

“Thank you Owari-san, but I cannot-”, and you are cut off by a cough, a sob, and then it hits you. 

Warm tears stream down your face and continue on asymmetrical patterns. You cry and cry and cry. Choking on tears and pain and failed attempts in ‘handling things’. You knew you couldn’t juggle all the difficult emotions. And the tears leak to Akane’s skin, soaking her shirt. 

. . . . . . . . . 

“Your hamsters, they died this morning. I held a proper burial for them, and if you wish to do farther, I marked where they are buried, so yeah. But they aren’t living, and I just wish I knew the state you’ll be in when the light goes off. Gundam, please, please, please, plea-”, and the noise dies in your throat when you erupt into a complete breakdown of tears onto the glass just above his face and neck. You don’t even notice the tears until one makes it to the curves of your nose. A shiver runs down your spine when you hear it. 

A loud screech comes from above you and through your left ear more than the right. It is the alarm and light next to you. You see the bright light illuminate the room signalling either death or a survivor. 

And the light is in Gundam’s hands.


	2. All Too Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is breathing even an option anymore?

Is breathing an option anymore? 

You don’t know how to get your lungs to function, or feel function, again. You sit in the pod, with an aching, burning in your chest. You can see the human inhabited world around you, you can see what the people are doing, maybe what they are saying, as if you are conscious, but you aren’t. You haven’t been in a while. The game did this, you could hear a small boy’s words from the other room as he explained in further depth. 

The signal of the next student waking goes off. You wonder what that means, who will wake, how they will act, what they will say. And will it ever be you? 

The few luckies that woke awoke in absolute horror, still in the deep despair, although recovery was quick, they only lasted in that manner for a short amount of time -- everyone except Tsumiki Mikan, the inconfident one. She reacted in such violence, such a threatening manner, that even hell would consume her in a manner of hatred and disrespect, in a way that she was treated her whole life perhaps. 

And with all of this happening, you never did get to see Hinata again, so, assuming he was merely the traitor, or the mastermind, or killed off, you went about. And the more you think, you never have seen Nanami either, so perhaps she held a similar fate. You ponder for as long as you can, which to you is starting to feel like forever, because the possibility of you waking is difficult to enhance upon truth. 

From that beep, the one you here now, you notice the young man by Komaeda Nagito stand. He had truly failed the game, truly was in a pod, and now he has awakened. His threatening, heart aching, painfully manic coughs erupt and corrupt his lungs, as if exploding in a fit of insanity and pure horror. 

The slumber death was the only one you had to be told of without knowing. That moment was truly sorrowful, the fact that you caused it gave you an even worse feel of the situation, perhaps, if you never would have murdered, Nidai wouldn’t have been able to pass in his slumber, of an illness to the heart, one he had before hand. The only good part was you got to hear the songbird sing yet again, her sad song of your never occurring appearance in “the wake”. 

Now, she makes her way to you. 

The lines carved perfectly onto her face are a sign of thought, and memorization, and you know it i you she is thinking of, you she wishes would wake, and you who she thinks deserves too. Her sad, shaken voice spits words of worry, yet of casual conversation

“Will you please wake up, it has been quite a while now. You won’t ever get your haircut if you don’t come out of there”, and you are unsure of a proper reaction. Do you need your haircut? Restyled? And why is that a worry? Surely, her time is only passing with what she wishes was truly happening. You try to think of a response, but in all, you wish that you couldn’t think right now, that it’d be easier if neither of you were here, that both of you never cared for one another. 

. . . . . . . . . .

“Komaeda-kun, Tsumiki-san, and Saionji-san have awoken, I hope your turn comes soon enough! I can’t wait, honestly! The moment it happens I won’t be able to hold back tears, and please don’t yell for it, I know you wouldn’t want that, but I’ll be so happy!”, you think up a reactions, a mental list in which you wish could be spoken, could be said. You see she loses her grip, her everything, you see how difficult the positions she rightfully and beautifully fills, is crumbling onto her, caving in her deepest and digging it out, the deepest feelings she has and attempting them in display. 

“A lot of things are happening, and you are missing it all, I even got a haircut, but I promise when you wake, you’ll be before anyone in line. Your scarf falling apart, I guess after everything it was a great scarf though, but I won’t get rid of it! Not unless you instruct me to do so!”,you prepare the mental screaming, the heart pounding, mind aching process of emotion. You wish to tell her to wear it. Hold it with grace and dignity. Proud to represent everything you did, you do, you might. 

. . . . . . .. . . . .

You have only seen one breakdown of hers. She was truly the definition of broken, shattered, cracked, everything. Stepping on broken glass while escaping hell would be easier than witnessing - let alone you being the one in which this action fills you - what you are. 

. . . . . . . . . 

“Your hamsters, they died this morning. I held a proper burial for them, and if you wish to do farther, I marked where they are buried, so yeah. But they aren’t living, and I just wish I knew the state you’ll be in when the light goes off. Gundam, please, please, please, plea-”, and the noise dies in her throat when she erupts into a complete breakdown of tears onto the glass just above your face and neck. The tears line her face in glistening, salty streams, and she is even perfect crying. 

A loud screech comes from above you. It is the alarm and light connected to your pod. You see the bright light illuminate the room signalling either death or a survivor. 

And the feeling of tearing your soul out of a sacred resting place occurs. You wonder what your fate will end as, what your mind chose, and if you’ll react okay to it. The last thing you may see is her tears, and if you could change that, you would, you’d do anything to. 

The fate of yourself is in your hands. 

The top lifts, and you see, you see the room, the crying female, the other survivors, the sad and happy faces of your peers surround you. Light illuminates the room. And a scarf is rested on your stomach. The feeling is too abrupt and an overwhelming amount of power, despair attacks you, and you rise, hands raised, fists prepared, and attack anyone, and it turns out to end at her - the girl sobbing, attempting to stop you. And your reaction of the feeling stops. 

“Such a foolish act of stupidity and idiotic humanity I almost committed would have left emotional scars on someone of such grace and purity… I’m sorry”, and your voice cuts off, and you feel a sudden breath of warmth against you. She is performing an act of kindness, an act of soul connection, an act in which you wish would be everlasting, although the burst wishes you to a collapse, you stand, holding onto the moment you wish to endure, never to leave.


End file.
